


the ladder

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Genderqueer Scott, Misgendering, Non-Binary Scott, Other, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-17 07:25:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3520532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It turns out college is nothing like how Isaac expected it would be. He's still somewhat of a loner, he's still invisible, and he's still getting sub-par grades.</p><p>Then he meets Scott McCall, and his outlook shifts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the ladder

**Author's Note:**

> For teamwoof over on Tumblr. I hope you enjoy! Also, a million gazillion thanks to Daf for betaing this.
> 
> Just wanted to point out that the misgendering that occurs in this fic towards Scott is completely accidental. It gets cleared up, and things go from there.

It's difficult to pay attention in Professor Amell's class.

Professor Amell's voice is too monotone, too slow, and it's impossible for a human being to be able to hear it without straining their ears. You have to be paying _extra_ attention to catch a sentence, much less an entire, hour-long lecture.

Isaac finds it easier to doodle on his notepad.

Yes, he's an idiot. He's in college, and every day he falls deeper and deeper into debt, so shouldn't he be trying to get an education?

Erica, who's in his English class and—surprisingly—his first and only friend in college, constantly says the same thing whenever the subject is brought up: "Isaac, you're wasting your life in college." As if her notes _aren't_  limited to a mess of demeaning and horribly drawn caricatures of her professors.

The thing is, Isaac knows this, of course he does. But that doesn't mean he's going to start paying attention. He's going to keep on idly drawing on his notepad in Professor Amell's class and that's that.

Except there's an idiot scribbling madly next to him, who can't seem to understand that Isaac picked a seat in the far back of the lecture hall for a reason.

"Hey," said idiot whispers loudly. " _Hey_."

Isaac sighs under his breath. "What?" he spits out, stubbornly not moving his eyes from his notepad.

"Did you catch that last thing Professor Amell said? I swear, he speaks so quietly on purpose to fuck with us."

He closes his eyes. "Does it _look_ like I'm taking any notes?"

A pause, and then the idiot whistles. "You're really not taking any notes," he says, sounding taken aback. "How the hell do you expect to pass this class? Professor Amell is a hard marker, y'know."

It's getting harder and harder not to snap. "I don't _care_. Shut up and leave me alone."

There's another pause, and Isaac feels eyes boring into the side of the head. The idiot's probably making a face or something at him, maybe even cursing him in his head. Isaac turns to him, for curiosity's sake. The guy's face is stuck in a rather comical sneer.

Bravado seems to trickle out of him lightning-fast. "I-I'm, uh, just going to—" He points at the professor, then turns his head away.

Isaac snorts and goes back to doodling.

This is the last conversation he expects to have with the guy who was stupid enough to sit next to him. But when he leaves the room at the end of the lecture, Isaac notices him from the corner of his eye. He's leaning against the wall, talking loudly to a friend.

"I'm telling you, Scott, the guy was an  _asshole_. I only wanted to know what the professor said, but he's all like 'no, I'm not telling you because I hate you and everyone else who isn't me'. And then  _I_ said, 'sorry bro, but that's not right. You shouldn't have your head that far up in your ass—you'll develop health problems'." _  
_

"Stiles, I'm pretty sure you never said that. And I have a feeling he didn't say that, either," his friend, Scott apparently, says, voice tinged in amusement.

"...okay, no, so maybe that's not how our conversation went  _exactly_ , but he's still an asshole."

And because Isaac is an asshole, he joins the conversation. "The name's Isaac, actually, not 'asshole'."

Stiles flails, back slamming against the wall as he turns to stare at him with wide eyes. "Where the hell did you even—" he sputters, looking around wildly, before he slumps against the wall. "I swear, the universe does this to spite me."

Scott laughs before turning to Isaac. "Ignore him," he says apologetically, "he antagonizes pretty much everyone like this."

Now that he's moved closer, Stiles no longer blocking his view with his spindly body, Isaac has a better view of the idiot's friend. His brown skin is clear and pimple-free, and he looks great even in casual clothing. His face is open and friendly. Isaac finds himself envious. It's people like Scott that he can't help measure himself to, finding himself lacking in contrast.

He ducks his head. "I can imagine," he says curtly. "Well, I have better things to be doing, so..." With that he turns and makes his way back to his dorm, not failing to notice the surprised expression that briefly passes Scott's face.

His teeth grind together when Stiles says, " _See?_ "

Isaac knows that he should be making friends,  _becoming popular_ —not rebuffing any and all opportunities to become something more than the loser he had been in high school.

But he has been learning, ever since he stepped foot on the college campus, that habits are hard to break.

 

* * *

 

"Scott?" Erica questions, hand digging deep into _his_ potato chip bag. "I've heard of a lot of Scotts. You need to be more specific than that."

"I don't know the last name," Isaac answers her, reclining on his back so that he can think about his life choices. Such as why he allowed Erica into his dorm room if all she was going to do was eat his food and be unhelpful. "Scott's friends with some guy named Stiles."

"Stiles Stilinski? I know him. Unfortunately." There is a disgust in her tone that he can identify with. "We went to the same high school. Believe it or not, I had a crush on him.  _Shut up_." She hits him on the arm, hard, but that's not enough to stop him from laughing. "I've avoided him like the plague since then, okay. Though I have a feeling he kind of likes me now that I got rid of my frumpy clothes and terrible hair."

"You never did show me a picture of what you looked like in high school," Isaac comments.

"Those were dark days," is all she says, but there is a seriousness in her voice that makes him back off from the topic, labeling it as  _never to be brought up again_.

"Well, if you know Stiles, then you should know which Scott I'm talking about, right?"

A pause, silence broken only by the potato chip bag crinkling. "Hmm, it's still not ringing any bells."

Isaac sighs heavily, even though he's not sure why he asked her about the guy in the first place.

"So, you got a crush on this Scott, then?"

He turns to look at her, eyes blown wide. "Wait, what? I-I don't—"

"Hey, it's not like I'm a homophobe," Erica interjects, rolling her eyes. "Love is love, blah blah, all that jazz. It's the twenty-first century. Some people are still assholes, but what do you expect."

"I don't like Scott," is all he says, going back to staring up at the ceiling.

"Uh-huh, so you're asking because you hate Scott."

He sighs heavily. "Just drop it. It's not like we're ever going to see each other again, anyway."

The blonde shifts on his bed. "Boyd, you wouldn't know anything about Scott, would you?" she asks his roommate, who has until then been silently pursuing his course work.

Boyd is also the main reason Erica hangs around in his room, in the hopes of catching his eye. And, considering Boyd is Boyd, there's no way of knowing whether he likes her or is annoyed by her like he is with pretty much everyone.

"I do."

Isaac shifts his attention to his roommate. "You do?"

"Yeah."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Erica asks.

"Because nobody asked."

The blonde turns to her friend. "Well, there you have it. Boyd knows Scott."

"...whatever," he mumbles eventually.

Erica leans over him, obscuring his view of the ceiling. Her blonde tresses fall into his face, tickling his nose. "Seriously? You're not going to ask him anything? Not even what Scott's last name is?"

He shoves at her shoulder, and she moves to sit beside him. "No, I'm not going to ask about him—"

"Them," Boyd says suddenly.

Isaac turns to him, noticing the hard stare he's giving him all of a sudden. "Huh?"

"Scott's genderqueer, Lahey."

Erica groans. "And I was referring to them as a guy the entire time in my head. I feel like such an asshole." Her eyes cut to Isaac. "You didn't use the wrong pronoun to their  _face_ , did you?"

"What? I'm so confused right now." He puts up his hands, as if that will slow down time. "What's genderqueer?"

A pause, wherein Boyd and Erica both give him assessing looks.

"What?"

"You poor, poor thing," Erica says, shaking her head slowly. "You don't  _know_? You need to get to a computer, stat. Ugh, let me get comfortable, and I'll explain what it means."

After she positions herself so that she is leaning against the headboard, Erica _does_ explain what it means, and Isaac realizes how little he knows of the world.

 

* * *

 

The next week, instead of going to Professor Amell's lecture, Isaac goes on a walk around campus. He doesn't want to risk Stiles Stilinski sitting beside him. He doesn't want to be in the same room as Stiles Stilinski,  _period_. This way he can also avoid Scott, should he— _they_ meet up with their friend after the lecture.

It's on his way to a random fast food restaurant that he stumbles upon Casey, a stray dog that frequents the campus now and then. He crouches down beside her, running a hand through her fur, and when she looks at him he  _swears_  that she's smiling. He smiles back.

"Hey, Casey," he greets her. "It's been a while since I've seen you around. What have you been up to?"

She barks, as if able to understand his words, and his smile widens. He scratches her behind the ear, just how she likes it, and she's putty in his hands. _If only everyone was as easy to befriend_ , Isaac thinks as he takes a seat on the curb, content to continue petting Casey for a while longer. His trip to get something to eat is forgotten.

"You should hang out with your own species, you know," he says conversationally. "Humans suck anyway. Apart from me, obviously. And I bet the other dogs would love you."

Casey continues to lean into his hand, ignoring his human-speak.

"Sometimes I wish I was a dog," Isaac mutters to himself, reveling at how little she cares about her surroundings. About how little she has to worry about. "Things would be much easier."

"I wish that too sometimes."

He hadn't been expecting a response. Isaac jerks, twisting around to see none other than Scott standing a little ways away, looking startled himself—no, _themself_ , he corrects.

Though the concept of genderqueer, of how vast the LGBTQ+ community is, confuse him greatly, Isaac doesn't find it weird. It's simply... _different_ from what he had known back home, under the rule of his father, who kept a tight hold on his access to the internet and the outdoors. Most of the stuff he knew, he learnt from school. (It makes him wonder if he would have found out about genderqueer and likewise ideas earlier if it had not been for his father. Such thoughts come often, however.)

"Uh—sorry," Scott says. "I probably shouldn't have sneaked up on you and scared you like that."

"I wasn't scared," Isaac retorts sullenly, before he can stop himself.

Scott's brows raise, lips twitching, and Isaac turns away before he can think of how endearing they looked doing that and— fuck, too late.

"Right," they say slowly. "Of course."

Isaac shakes his head, ready to say something rude that will probably send Scott running, when they sit beside him and start where he left off, petting Casey. Somehow they know right away that she likes having her ears scratched, and soon she's leaning into their hand and whining appreciatively.  _Traitor_.

"Shouldn't you be at Professor Amell's lecture right now?" Scott asks. "I thought you had class with Stiles."

"I'm skipping it. Obviously."

The other's brows furrow somewhat. "Oh, okay," they say, letting the remark pass, and Isaac is a bit surprised. Most people press him for an answer, tut disapprovingly, look at him like he's insane,  _something_. But it's not like he wanted them to continue, so he goes back to petting Casey. She seems to be loving the extra attention.

"A stray?" Scott inquires.

"Yeah. She hangs around campus," he answers, hesitating a bit before continuing, "I, uh, named her Casey."

"Casey," they repeat, and smile when the dog barks. "Well, she's used to it. I'm guessing you spend time with her a lot?"

"Not really. She's just...around, sometimes. We're not allowed to have pets in the dorms."

"Oh. I live with my mom nearby, so I'm not really well-versed on the campus life," Scott explains, and Isaac wonders about the single parent angle. Of course, he doesn't bring it up, thinking back to his own father living in his hometown, still with no idea where Isaac had left to in the middle of the night; a thief in his own house.

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Isaac says instead, hoping it'll be enough to scare them away.

"Uh, not really? My class finished a little while back, so I'm waiting on Stiles." Scott shrugs. "We usually hang around for a bit, since we don't see each other as much as we used to in high school."

Isaac can't help wonder what that must be like, having such a close friend throughout high school; one who made the days pass by easier. It's difficult to imagine, and yet another reason to be envious of someone like Scott.

"Hey, do you want to come with me to this café that's right by here?" they ask suddenly, pulling Isaac from his thoughts. "I was going there when I ran into you. My friend works there, and she always gives me a discount." A lopsided grin plays along their lips. "I'm sure if you ask nicely enough, she'll give you one, too."

Strangely enough, it's a tempting offer, though that may have to do with the fact that he hasn't eaten yet. Isaac looks at Casey, thin-lipped. "I'm not in the mood," he settles on, which comes out more sharply than he intended it to. He thinks of apologizing, of explaining that he hadn't meant it like  _that_ , but it'll only make him sound stupid. He settles for silence instead.

"...okay," Scott says, abruptly getting up. "See you around, I guess." Then they're gone.

Isaac cringes. "I really should have been born a dog," he says to Casey. "That way I wouldn't be able to communicate with humans. My life woud've been _much_ easier."

She barks. In agreement, he's sure.

 

* * *

 

"Hey, Boyd," Isaac begins as he changes into a blue polo, trying for casualness, "what's Scott's last name?"

His roommate turns a page of his Criminal Psychology textbook. "McCall." There is no denying the slight amusement in Boyd's tone, easy to catch if you know him well enough.

Isaac smooths his shirt over his chest; doesn't say anything more, even though there are questions sitting on the tip of his tongue.

Boyd doesn't either, so he thinks that's the end of that.

Of course, it isn't.

 

* * *

 

"So," Erica begins, the next time she barges into his dorm room, "Boyd told me the good news."

"Boyd? Since when do you two talk?" Isaac glances between the two of them, confused.

"Since I got his number, duh. Now, he said something about how you've admitted that you're in love with Scott _McCall_." _  
_

"When did you get his number? And where the hell was I?"

"I never said that," Boyd interjects, ignoring Isaac's inquiry.

"Okay, fine. He said that you asked for Scott's last name. That's close enough."

"No, it's not."

Erica sighs heavily. "Still. Obviously something happened between you and Scott, and you never told your best friend."

"You're not my best friend," Isaac says.

"I don't recall you ever talking about a best friend, so that means that technically I'm your best friend," the blonde says, falling onto Boyd's bed. Boyd continues writing undisturbed. They really _must_ have gotten closer since he didn't give her the death stare and tell her to get off his bed, like he had the one and only time Isaac had done the same.

Isaac rolls his eyes, closing the door and sitting down on his bed, across from Erica. "It was nothing big. We just talked."

"But you said you'd never see them again."

"Yeah, well, they kind of found _me_. Even though I skipped Amell's lecture."

Erica pins with him with a look. "Isaac, you're wasting your life in college, and that's coming from  _me_ of all people. Ugh, we're going off track, but we  _will_ have a talk about this later. Now, Scott McCall. You. Love. What's it looking like? Did you ask them on a date yet?"

"No, and I'm not going to. Ever. It's not like they'll ever want to date me anyway, after I was such an asshole."

"When are you not an asshole? They'll get used to it like Boyd and I have."

Isaac rolls his eyes. "Ha, ha, hilarious," he says sarcastically. "I know for a fact Scott's going to avoid me from now on. I'm just hoping Biles will leave me alone the next time I decide to go to Amell's lecture."

"It's Stiles."

A slow grin settles on his lips. "Of course you'd know. I mean, you _do_ have a crush on him."

Erica frowns, her glare practically boring a hole into him. " _Had_. I  _had_ a crush on him. And either way, you're trying to change the subject." Sighing heavily, his friend reclines back against his roommate's outstretched legs as if she belongs there, shaking her head. "Denial isn't just a river in Egypt," she says sagely, making him roll his eyes, but thankfully she leaves it at that.

 

* * *

 

Stiles does not leave Isaac alone the next lecture. The only reprieve he gets is that the idiot doesn't pick the seats on either side of him.

Instead, he picks the seat behind him, and suddenly develops a habit of kicking the back of his chair, constantly giving him half-assed apologies that sound nothing like apologies.

It's annoying, and he has half a mind to get up and deck him, but something stops him. In the end, Isaac trips Stiles as he's going out the door at the end of the lecture. His arms flail and he nearly falls flat on his face.

It's totally worth the irritation he had to go through for a solid hour.

(He tries and fails to ignore the fact that Scott isn't standing outside, waiting.)

 

* * *

 

Isaac stares out the windshield, wondering how he ended up in such a predicament. "Why are you taking me to Baskin Robbins against my will."

"I haven't hung out with you in a while," Erica says from behind the wheel, "so I figured that this could be your treat."

He couldn't have heard that right. " _My_ treat?"

"You didn't expect me to pay, did you? I'm  _driving_  us."

"...What do you even want ice cream so late at night for, anyway?"

The blonde shrugs her shoulders. "I wanted to eat something sweet. I also wanted to chill with you for once. Win-win."

He sighs noisily but doesn't argue. Ever since Boyd and Erica (somehow) got together, they have been hanging out constantly, which hasn't left Isaac in such a good position since he doesn't know anyone except for them. It's pathetic, but it's a step up from how he used to be in high school. Even when he joined the lacrosse team, it was impossible for him to socialize with the team members. They thought he was some kind of freak, knowing about the graveyard shifts he (literally) had as a job.

Erica drums her thumbs against the steering wheel. "So... how's it going with Scott? Seen them around lately?" Her casual tone isn't fooling anybody.

"It's not going, and no," he says, hoping the conversation will be dropped there.

She turns to him. "All I'm saying is that they're the first person you actually—" Erica cuts herself off, and Isaac thinks nothing of it, until she curses and breaks,  _hard_.

The seat belt pulls taut across his chest, nearly suffocating him, as the car pulls to an abrupt stop. There comes the sound of a muffled  _thump_ , which solves the question ready to spring from his lips. Erica and Isaac trade wide-eyed looks before, in unison, they take off their seat belts and get out of the car.

"Who is it?" Erica asks, panicked. "Do we need to go to a hospital? Is there a lot of blood?"

"I can't see anything," he answers her, squinting, though that does nothing to improve his sight. "Might have been a squirrel or something."

"Oh, thank God," she breathes. "I honestly thought I offed someone for a minute there."

Now that the panic is dying down, Isaac grins at her. "Don't worry, I would've helped you bury the body."

"Naturally. Best friends are su— shit, wait. Do you see that?"

He turns his head to where she's pointing. "Uh... no?" Except as his eyes adjust to the lack of light, growing used to the headlights, he does. "That definitely isn't a squirrel." Moving closer, he can tell the shape is fairly large, but malnourished. There is fur that's thick but knotted, and a familiar brown.

His eyes widen. "Fuck. Casey. It's Casey!"

"Casey? Who's Casey?"

"The stray," he explains impatiently, gathering the dog in his arms. His heart clenches when he hears a low whimper. "Come on, open the car door. We need to get her to a vet — quick!"

Erica still looks confused, but understands his panic and obliges, holding the car door open for him. "I know one nearby. I'll take us there."

The ride there is spent in tense silence, with Isaac turning on the overhead lights to get a closer look at Casey while Erica drives, bottom lip caught between her teeth. She opens the door for him when they're there, though Isaac despairs at the sight of the vet's darkened windows. But Erica waves him forward with a "I see someone in there!" and, thankfully, the door is open.

"We need some help here!" she calls out, allowing the door to swing shut behind them. Isaac places Casey on a table covered with a soft blanket, looking up only when Erica lets out an audible breath. He realizes why soon enough.

Scott has walked into the room, toweling off their hands, and looking taken aback. Then their eyes land on Casey.

"What happened?" they ask as they approach Isaac and the dog.

"We might have hit Casey. With our car," Isaac explains rapidly. "It was dark out, so we're not sure, but we did hear a noise."

Scott rests their hands gently on Casey, starting from her head and going down. She merely blinks lazily, as if dazed, and doesn't let out a sound. Isaac wrings his hands as he waits for Scott to say something.

"Doesn't seem like anything's broken," they say eventually. "Dr. Deaton's not here right now, but as long as she stays off her feet, she'll be fine until he's in tomorrow morning."

Isaac runs a hand over his face. "Thanks," he says. "But...what happens now? We can't just leave her here alone, can we?"

Erica raises a brow. "What, you're up for staying here for the rest of the night?"

"I mean, if it's fine with Scott, I wouldn't mind staying behind with them."

A disbelieving noise comes from Scott. They have lost their previous professionalism. "Wait, you— you know that I'm—"

"Genderqueer?" Isaac finishes. "Yeah. For a while now. Boyd told me." He shifts awkwardly. "It wasn't... a secret or anything, was it?"

"Oh. No. No! It's just that... I didn't know you and Boyd knew each other," they mumble. "I mean, it's not like I don't tell people, but that usually happens... after."

 _After I'm closer to them. After I become friends with them. After I'm sure they're not complete assholes._ There are many ways the sentence could end, except Scott doesn't finish it. Just leaves it at that, smiling sheepishly.

They duck their head. "Anyway. I only have to stay behind for a bit, to monitor her. You can go, if you'd like. She's in good hands."

"I know," Isaac says immediately. Then he smiles, slowly but surely. "If you don't mind, though, I'd like to stay a while longer."

Scott looks at him for a moment, before a wide smile settles on their lips. The two of them stand there, smiling at each other like a bunch of idiots. "Okay."

It's seconds after that Scott and Isaac remember that Erica is there too, off to the side and smiling. She raises her hands, adopting an innocent expression. "Oh, don't stop on my account."

 

* * *

 

The bell above the door jingles as Isaac enters the place. For a moment he stands there, immobile, before he finally has the courage to call out Scott's name.

The person who comes out to greet him is definitely not Scott.

"You must be Isaac. I'm Dr. Deaton. You're here to check on Casey, I presume?" He waves him towards a room with its door ajar. Casey is inside. She's lying down, head resting on her paws, but she looks much better than last night. She gets up the moment their eyes lock, barking.

Isaac grins, walking over to her to scratch behind the ear. "Hey, girl. How are you feeling?"

Casey barks once more. He laughs, relieved that she's in higher spirits.

"She checks out," Deaton informs him. "She was shocked, that's all. There weren't any injures apart from a scratch she got from falling; the vehicle didn't hit her."

"Thanks, doc," he says, turning to the older male.

"Deaton, I'm just going to see Kira. Did you... Isaac!" Scott blinks, pausing at the mouth of the doorway, hands in the middle of zipping up their sweater. "I didn't know you'd be coming in."

"Yeah, uhm, I came to check up on Casey." He shifts his weight from one foot to another, unsure of what else to say.

"Oh, okay," Scott says. "I'm heading over to a café. Did you want anything, or are you not planning to stay long?"

Isaac smooths a hand over his thigh. "I'll come with you," he says hurriedly, before he can change his mind.

They look surprised, but nod. "I don't have my mom's car with me since she's working. Is walking alright with you?"

"Yeah, that's cool."

"Get me a coffee, Scott, thank you," Deaton says, slipping his hands into his labcoat pockets.

Scott nods at him. "Aye, aye," they reply, before turning to Isaac and disappearing from the doorway. Isaac's pretty sure that means to follow them, so with a quick glance in Deaton's direction he does just that. He's feels Deaton's eyes follow him on his way out.

"So, uh, how far is the place from here?" he asks Scott, hoping to diffuse the silence.

They hold the door open for him. "About ten minutes, tops."

Great. So the two of them have that much time to themselves. Isaac wonders how he's going to be able to get there in one piece without coming off like a jerk. Either he'll say the wrong thing or he'll come off too aloof.

"You're Boyd's roommate, then?" Scott asks suddenly.

"Uh, yeah," he says, arms defensively crossing over his chest. "We...actually didn't talk much in the beginning. For a while I thought he—"

"Hated you," they finish, smiling. Isaac lets out a surprised laugh, nodding. "Same here. We met through my best friend, Stiles. Boyd isn't exactly  _friendly_ towards Stiles, but Stiles is pretty sure they're friends, so. At first I thought Boyd didn't like me. Stiles was  _convinced_ it was because I'm...well, genderqueer."

Isaac realizes, then, the magnitude of Scott's situation. Most people believed there were only two genders: man and woman. Only weeks prior, he himself believed the same. And Isaac knew too well that when people encountered something that was  _foreign_ , that they didn't know...it wasn't pretty. Scott had to have led a life where countless people were assholes towards them—they must have thought Boyd was one of those people.

"Turns out we were wrong," Scott continues, unknowing of his internal monologue. "After some time, I realized that that's... _Boyd_. He, um, even has someone in his life who is genderqueer, too."

"Yeah, exactly," Isaac says, though he hadn't known that _last_ detail concerning Boyd. "I thought he didn't like me, and he wouldn't be the first person, either. But I learned pretty quickly that if Boyd actually didn't like me, he'd make sure I knew."

Scott laughs at that, and it's easy to join in. And just like that, the walk doesn't seem all that daunting.

"So, uh, Kira," he begins after a moment of peaceful silence. "She's the one you told me about before, right? Your friend who works at the café?"

They nod. "Yeah."

How to ask this without sounding weird? "And Kira's... _only_ a friend."

Scott blinks, then laughs. "Yeah. Kira's aro." A pause, and then, as if they remembered something: "It...means aromantic."

"Yeah, I've heard of that," Isaac says. "When you're not interested in a romantic relationship, right? I'm...still kind of getting used to the whole concept, but I did some research after I found out about what genderqueer is."

They stare him, quiet, before ducking their head. "That's what it means, yeah," they reply eventually. "She has Malia, though. Another friend of mine. She's her zucchini."

"Which means queerplatonic partner," Isaac says, because he read that up too.

"Yeah, that's right." Though they confirm it, there's something strange in their tone. He wants to ask, genuinely confused, but ultimately decides to leave it alone. "Oh, we're here."

They walk towards a store with the words  _Kitsune Kafé_  written in bubble letters above the doors, a fox drawn beside the words. Scott lets Isaac go in first, then follows.

A pretty Asian girl waves at them from behind the cash register. "Hey, Scott! How's Dr. Deaton?"

"He's good, and he wants another one of your amazing coffees," Scott tells her, placing their hands against the counter. They crane their neck, as if looking for someone. "Where's Malia? She's always here when you're working."

"Allison and Lydia took her. Probably spending quality time at the mall right about now."

"I'm surprised the two of them didn't have to drag her away. She hates malls."

"She needs a dress. We're going to the theatre with my parents, and she said she would buy one for the occasion." Kira's eyes then land on Isaac, standing behind Scott with his hands in his jeans. "And who's this?"

"This is Isaac. He's my...friend."

Kira's brows raise. "Friend, huh? Well, nice to meet you, Isaac."

Isaac nods politely. "You, too." Then, considering he has nothing substantial to say, he points to the doors. "Kitsune, huh?"

The girl laughs at that. "Yeah. My parents are super into the myth, so they decided to name the café after it."

"Should've left the 'c' in 'café', though," Isaac comments before he can stop himself.

He thought she would get offended. However, Kira groans. " _Right_? I told them that it was as bad as writing 'cool' with a 'k'. They didn't listen to me, and now my zucchini has something to make fun of practically every single day." She shakes her head, though it's easy to see the fondness in her exasperation.

"Stiles makes fun of it, too," Scott adds. "But Malia gets angry at him whenever he does."

"Zucchinis, am I right?" Kira jokes, grinning, before turning to her friend. "The usual for you?"

"Just a cappuccino, yeah."

"And you, Isaac?"

He blinks, taken aback. "Um...I'll have a cappuccino, too," he says quickly.

Kira winks at him. "One coffee and two cappuccinos, coming right up."

Isaac's never had a cappuccino before, but when Kira's done with their order, he finds that it doesn't taste too bad. He carries Deaton's coffee for Scott, watching as they don't even bother to open their straw from its wrapping. They sip the beverage straight from the source instead. They get a foam mustache soon enough, and it makes them look completely different from the clean, orderly person Isaac had in mind when the two of them had first met. _  
_

It's enough to make him laugh, and when he points the foam mustache out, they merely shrug their shoulders, uncaring.

"I work it, don't I?" Scott says arrogantly.

Isaac's response is a snort.

 

* * *

 

Deaton and Scott decide to take Casey in, putting her up for adoption. Isaac drops by often, citing the reason to be that he wants to check up on her, but that's not the exact reason why. He also wants to see Scott, after all. By the way he constantly throws him knowing looks, Deaton knows this, too.

Erica shakes her head, calling him out on his crush, but Isaac has long since admitted his attraction to Scott McCall. Except it's not just attraction anymore. It's something more than that, something Isaac very much wants to explore, but uncertainty keeps him from voicing his thoughts.

For now, he doesn't mind just visiting and spending time with them, getting to know Scott and their friends (Lydia and Malia remind him too much of Erica, though Allison is nice—and hot to boot).

It's when Isaac and Scott are washing Casey—or _struggling_ to wash her, considering she squirms so much and keeps shaking the water off onto them—that they lean over and kiss him. Isaac is left gaping.

"I've wanted to do that for a while," they say, smirking. Isaac hadn't even known they were  _capable_ of smirking. "I thought you'd make a move eventually, but since you didn't..."

"You should've done it sooner," he says, before clasping a sudsy hand around their neck and bringing them in for another kiss. Scott laughs against his mouth, and while it is kind of annoying considering he's trying to  _kiss_ them, Isaac grins anyway.

A throat clears from behind the two lovebirds. It's Deaton, leaning against the doorframe and smiling. "The two of you should probably finish washing the dog first," he says.

"On it, doc." Scott shrugs the wet hand on their neck off and focuses on cleaning Casey once more.

Except this time they lean against Isaac's side, shoulders brushing pleasantly, for the next half hour.

 

* * *

 

Isaac walks out of Professor Amell's lecture frowning down at the mess of notes he's scribbled in his notebook. The guy really  _does_ speak too quietly for him to catch every word, but it's still progress.

Pushing themself off of the wall, Scott nestles against Isaac's side as usual. "Learn anything new?" they ask before leaning up to kiss him.

"Disgusting," groans Stiles as he walks out of the lecture hall. "How is it that everyone is paired up except for  _me_?"

"There's Lydia and Allison—"

"I'm pretty sure they sneak off to make out or whatever. You know...there _is_ this blonde in one of my classes who's pretty hot. I remember her from high school, actually, but man, it's like she got a _complete makeover_ or something."

"Don't even think about it," Isaac warns. "Plus, she's got a boyfriend who can break you into tiny little pieces."

"See?  _See?_ He's still an asshole. I don't know what you see in him, Scott."

Scott smiles up at Isaac. "I see the future, and it's looking pretty good."

And that? That deserves another kiss.


End file.
